Sweets
by MengMongster
Summary: Basically, Mrs. Jones when she was younger, married and with kids, what happens when they go missing and how she becomes a major peppermint addict!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Alex Rider! :(

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Mr. Jones sat at the dining table in the luxuriously furnished apartment in east London, reading the newspaper. It was a routine that he had stuck strictly to since he had graduated with top honors from Harvard Business School and was now working as an investment banker with the Bank of England. Despite being only in his early thirties, he was the owner of his own car, two homes and a great pile of cash in a Swiss bank account, achievements for which he only had himself to thank.

Five years ago, home became jointly owned with his new wife, a mid-level associate at a rival bank, the Royal and General. Tulip Jones was a conservative woman, and her style suited him very well. They got on well together, especially considering that fact that Tulip was rarely home, and if she ever was, only coming in in the wee hours of the morning and leaving again for the office after a few hours of sleep.

However, the both of them had somehow managed to have two children already, taken care of by a maid, who in addition to bringing them to and fro from kindergarten every day, also cooked and cleaned for the Joneses. Joshua and Jermaine were a year apart, and both of the sat facing each other at the middle of the table in crisp school uniform while polishing down a breakfast of milk, fried eggs and ham.

Today was an exception from all other days. The sun had risen hours ago but Mrs. Jones was still sitting at the opposite end of the long oak table from her husband, sipping from a cup of strong, black coffee while reading a second copy of the same newspaper that her husband was reading. She had only just came back from a flight from The Hague the night before and had arrived home at one a.m. after a lengthy six hour debriefing by her immediate boss, Alan Blunt.

The headline was running a breaking news report that seven spies had been captured in The Hague after a tip-off form British intelligence. Mrs. Jones felt her lips turn upward, forming a small smile, as she read the body of the article, and she allowed herself to feel a small sense of victory, reminding her once again of why she had wanted to join MI6 in the first place, with their relatively low pay as compared to the other offers she had received after graduating from Cambridge University.

It was a feeling of accomplishment that she would never be able to get with a $5 million year-end bonus, and that was something that her husband would never be able to understand. He worked for money, while she worked for passion.

Just then, Lorna, their maid, bustled into the room. "Ma'am," she said, addressing Mrs. Jones. "I'll be taking Jermaine and Joshua to school now. Would you like me to cook something for your breakfast?"

Mrs. Jones answered with a _no,_ and the maid backed out of the room with the two children in tow. Five minutes later, Mrs. Jones heard the front door close and saw the three of them walking out of the door and onto the street five stories below.

She put the papers down and sat back with a sigh. She had the rest of the day off, and as she thought back, realized that it was the only day off she had ever had since the beginning of her career, except for Christmas and she had absolutely no idea what to do.

Perhaps she should try grocery shopping? Or what about going with the kids to the shops after school? Or going back to work anyway? She really had no idea.

* * *

At the other end of the room, Mr. Jones sat in deep thought. He was currently stuck on page fifty, but his mind was far away from thinking about how Liverpool had been crushed 4-0 by a team he had never heard of in his life.

At first, he'd genuinely believed that his wife was working for a bank. Well, he knew that, technically, she _was _working for a bank. The problem was that the bank in question was a front for something else.

It had only just dawned on him that the conditions of Tulip's job were rather weird, and that he barely knew anything about what she did. All along, he had just assumed that she was doing what he was doing and had not thought to question her further. However, he had recently heard of rumors form his colleagues that Royal and General was not really a bank, but a front for the Special Operations division of MI6. He had been disbelieving then, but the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. Coming and going in the middle of the night… Going overseas at the drop of a hat… Coming home with more weariness that jet lag ought to give you… He was now convinced that Tulip Jones was a spy, and it had hurt him to think that she had not told him about it at all.

Maybe it was time to call for a divorce, especially after he'd met that gorgeous woman at a party…

It was now ten in the morning and Mr. Jones had left for work an hour ago, leaving his wife alone in the apartment. She was walking around aimlessly and realizing that she had not seen many of the fixtures under daylight before, which gave her a sudden urge to want to stay home the next day. And the day after that as well to catch up on all the things that she had missed out on while she was so preoccupied with her job.

The shrill ring of the telephone in the hallway interrupted her thoughts, and she moved to get it.

"Good morning, this is Ms. Picca calling from Rosemary Montessori. Is this Mrs. Jones?"

"Yes, speaking." Mrs. Jones replied tensely. What could prompt her children's school to be calling? Surely that hadn't been an accident… "Is there something wrong?" she asked.

"Not really," the woman at the other end replied. "Just that your children hasn't been into school today, and we were wondering if you were keeping them at home."

Upon hearing those words, Mrs. Jones' heartbeat increased tenfold. "What do you mean by not in school?" She demanded. "They left two hours ago!"

"No, they did not come today." The response at the other end of the line was smooth and steady, almost as if she dealt with such situations everyday. "Have you considered the possibility that they might be... lost along the way?"

"Do you mean kidnapped?" Mrs. Jones asked. Inside, she was panicking, but she refused to let her fear show. However, her efforts had failed. "I… I guess I'll hand up now and see what I can do…"

After hanging up the phone, she dashed out of the house and traced the path that Lorna and the kids would take to school everyday. She walked to the school, and back again, having found nothing. Could the unthinkable really have happened? She forced herself to think rationally. Could Lorna and the kids have went on a detour to the park and forgotten about the time? Did her children even like going to the park? She realized that she knew very little about her own children, and if things turned out badly, how much she knew about them would be limited to what she knew now. It wasn't a thought that she fancied.

After another ten minutes of deliberating, Mrs. Jones decided to call someone. The problem was that she could not decide if she should be calling her husband, the police, or MI6. After half a minute, she finally decided on the last option and dialed the number embedded in her memory.

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There's probably going to be one or two chapters after this, please tell me what you think! :)


	2. Chapter 2

Fifteen minutes later, a dark car pulled up outside her house and two men wearing suits and sunglasses hurriedly opened the door and stepped out. Tulip was watching them from the window and knew that they were in-change of security at MI6, though she had never met them in her life and she had difficulty memorizing their faces as she turned around and prepared to open the door for them.

She explained the whole situation to them and asked how they could help her. However, the response was that if it was a kidnapping, and the situation did seem to be like one, then they would have to wait for the kidnappers to make contact with them first before going onto the next step.

To Mrs. Jones, who had just lost her two children, it felt like a slap in the face. She had dedicated so much of her life to Queen and country, but in return, this was only as much as they could do. She could not stop the tears welling up in her eyes, and excused herself to go to the bathroom where she tried to compose herself to no avail.

She realized that if it was related to her job, which it most probably was, she would have to tell her husband everything, and she could only guess what his reaction would be. It certainly would not be a pleasant experience for the both of them though.

Mr. Jones returned home in the evening, only to find out that his wife was the only one at home and that she looked like she had been crying. Her eyes were red and swollen and she looked up as he came in.

"Tulip, what's wrong?" He stepped towards her and put his arms on her shoulders, rubbing them gently.

"Honey," Mrs. Jones replied without looking at her husband in the eye. "I think we need to talk."

As her husband sat down, Mrs. Jones continued to ponder about how she should be breaking the news to her husband. After a few more minutes, she opened her mouth and began to speak.

"Well, you see, the kids aren't home today because…"

It was past midnight when Mrs. Jones was finally done with her "confession".

Her husband was upset about the loss of his children, but he was made slightly satisfied by his wife's eventual confession. However, it was already too late for their children, and what she said would not make things right again.

The both of them spent the night going around to their children's rooms and savoring the time that they had spent together, trying to hold on to those memories.

Five months later, there was still no news of the Joneses' children or their maid. Despite all the feelers MI6 has put out, despite all the measures put in place at checkpoints and customs, there was still not a word of them. It was as if they had simply dropped off the face of the earth.

Mrs. Jones continually relayed what limited information on the search for her children that MI6 provided to her back to her husband, who had seemingly grown more distant and withdrawn from her, which wasn't a surprise.

It six months since that fateful day when MI6 eventually told her that they suspected her children were dead, probably killed by someone out to get revenge on her for all that she had done. As she called her husband to tell him the news, it suddenly dawned on her that joining MI6 was one of the worst mistakes that she had ever made in her life.

Mr. Jones put down the phone and rubbed his eyes wearily. His wife had just called him about the latest news, which was basically, no news.

He pondered for a moment more before making a second call, this time to a lawyer. "Hi Sam? Are the papers ready to be served?"

Five days later, Mrs. Jones was sitting at her desk in the office when she saw… divorce papers? _You've gotta be kidding me,_ she thought to herself. But then, after she'd hid her career from her husband, and her career had caused them to lose both their children, it was hardly surprising.

In fact, she could hardly take looking at her husband and not seeing her children in him, she could feel the rage he felt about all her lies over the past few years, and she wanted out too. With a sigh, she picked up the pen, and it was over.

Ian Rider was working late at the office, rushing to complete his report after a lengthy mission In Hong Kong.

"…in the lake." With those three words, Ian finished the report and tossed it into a folder before grabbing his coat and briefcase with the intention of dumping the report on Mrs. Jones' desk before heading out of the office.

He'd just arrived back earlier in the day and his eyes were heavy from lack of sleep. To add to his sleep woes, his sister-in-law, Helen, had just given birth and since John was somewhere deep in a jungle in South America doing God knows what, he had no choice but to accompany Helen.

He didn't receive any response after knocking twice on her door, so he opened it, expecting to find nobody. However, what he saw gave him a shock, though he quickly covered it up.

Tulip Jones was sitting at her desk, staring straight ahead and absolutely still. Ian would have thought she was dead if it wasn't for the tears streaming down her face, and it was one of the first displays of emotion Ian had _ever_ seen of anyone at MI6.

When it was clear that Mrs. Jones had not noticed him, Ian snapped his fingers in front of her face and shouted her name.

She literally jumped in her seat, and swept her hand through her hair before addressing him. "Ian! You gave me a start! What do you need?"

"I'll just be leaving the report from the Hong Kong mission here," Ian replied sheepishly, embarrassed at having caught Mrs. Jones in an awkward moment.

"No, wait… Ian…" Mrs. Jones seemed unsure as to how she should continue. "You know… Why is it that you choose not to get married?"

_So that's what it's about_, Ian thought to himself. _A divorce. _He struggled to think about how he should reply. "Well, everyone around here seems to screw up their marriage," he began. "Why not you?" He winced inwardly as he said it; the sentence had sounded surprisingly harsh coming from him.

"Would you like a peppermint?" He continued. "Apparently they'll all the rage at the moment. It might even help you… ease your tension," he finished rather lamely.

Mrs. Jones tried to smile at him. "No thanks, Ian. I'm not really a sweets person. Why don't you go to the hospital now?"

Ian wondered how she would have known about the baby. But then, it wasn't surprising that she would know. They probably bugged all their agents' phones. He turned and left the room. Mrs. Jones was an adult, and Ian knew that she was perfectly capable of helping herself out of her mess.

Mrs. Jones finally mustered up enough courage to move on with life, starting with washing her face and walking out of the building. She headed down the road and as she passed by a supermarket along the way, decided to walk inside and look around. After all, where should she go now that she was divorced? She certainly didn't see fit to call home _home _any longer.

She took a trolley and walked up and down the aisles, finding the different colored packaging of cereals very interesting. She decided to buy some necessities that she would need, since she didn't feel capable about going home, and check into a cheap hotel until she could find somewhere else to live.

As she stood in line to pay for her items at the check out counter, she noticed a packet of the same peppermints that Ian had tried to offer her earlier. _Might as well just try,_ she thought to herself. _It might even help me be a sweeter person._

She picked it up and placed it in the cart.

Mrs. Jones was halfway through the packet of sweets before she was even out of the revolving door. _So much for not liking sweets, _she thought to herself. _Life is going to be very different from today onwards._


End file.
